


between your burning hands

by yua



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Inspired by The Witcher, M/M, Witcher Keith (Voltron), excerpt from something i'll never write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28918950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yua/pseuds/yua
Summary: Witcher's are a myth from the mouths of old and youth.Lance is on the run for his life, and attracts the help of a man who speaks the myths into truth.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	between your burning hands

**Author's Note:**

> I was 26 hours into an all nighter when I wrote this and words and everything continued to elude me  
> there will be a part two on my next all nighter. stay tuned

_when we collided_

_i._

_His hood hangs low over his face, blacking out his features under the full moon as he steps into the red ferns of the forest. The fog welcomes him in, sucking him into the vast almost, and his frantic steps soon don’t feel like his own._

_He runs until he loses the direction. Until his cheeks are ripped to ribbons from the branches and his eyes are so adjusted to the dark that he strays from the moonlit path that was granted to him._

_The marks on his skin come to life, humming and throbbing with the beat of his heart. The Forest seems to open its eyes for soon he feels a presence all around him, voices and ill hands creeping out of grab at the cloak and drag him into oblivion._

_The warnings the clairvoyant gave him at the inn, telling him not to enter the forest alone, fell mostly on pride. Not even the kingdom’s bravest knights would accompany him, even with the handsome coin he offered. Lance then thought he would be fine alone, but the frorest seemed to grow at night. The trees seem taller than they did in the sun, reaching lengths he thought only the stars could. He let his lack of trust hinder the risk on his life and he now realizes he was foolish._

_“Damnit,” he hisses between gritted teeth. The ground erupts somewhere behind him, and his achilles knicks the point of a root, sending him tumbling on elbows and knees._

_The sudden stop brings on a whirlwind of motion, eyes going in circles as the trees sway. His body refuses to move to recover from the overexertion, but there’s eyes appearing from the trees, bodies forming in the dark above where he lays and Lance starts to hear the creatures creak._

_Turning to crawl he feels something grab at his feet. The boy cries out and kicks aimlessly, gasping when something cracks against his heel._

_He wastes no more time, not even to glance. The sounds tell him all he needs to see, and it’s horrid._

God, _the sounds._

_He’s never heard anything like it._

_Lance feels he’s not alone anymore, hearing the other steps pound into the ground behind him, catching up quickly. The fear overtakes him and steals his breath, eyes flashing in every compass direction looking for an end but the forest expands in his vision. The dark never ends._

_The creatures writher, falling from the trees and erupting from the grounds, and he feels their nails grazing him every moment. They screech, they cry, and they yell out and split his ears to liquid._

_A clawed hand rips his cloak and his back hits the earth. Red eyes and rows of pointed teeth bloom in his vision, and strings of drool mix with the tears flowing down the curve of his face. They’re all over him, grabbing his limbs and pressing the points of their hands into his plump flesh. One’s jaw cracks open to the width of his head._

_Lance screams something bloody, something raw._

_Then there's a flash in the moonlight, a blade swinging and the creature's head hitting the bark with a thud. Black blood blinds him, and his body quivers in response to the loss of sense._

_The earth tremors under him. Bodies hit the ground in rumbles and screeches that come to abrupt halts. He feels it in his gut, rather than hears, the sounds that rain around him. Lance pulls himself up into a seated position and kicks his heels against the roots until his back smacks the trunk of a tree._

_Then the sounds stop and a hush washes over. Lance can only hear his rapid breathing and his heart in his ear, and then the crisp ground of the forest floor crunching as someone - or something - steps toward him. He sucks the air between his teeth, hands grabbing the sheath that rests against this thigh._

_His viscous movements are too uncoordinated. He tries to swipe the grim from his eyes but it burns, making them water and glare. He tries again, using the rough of his cloak to rub the skin raw, just enough that he gets a blur of perception._

_The moon hangs high and large beyond him, illuminating the figure of a man in heavenly light. Dismembered bodies litter around him, hands reaching out of their demise and the frame of his vision, twitching in the wind. The forest sings as the fog is swept over._

_“Hm,” a grumble. A flick of the sword and the blood falls like tar, steaming fresh, and disintegrating anything under it. Lance feels eyes on him again._

_The steps draw closer, heavy, and he draws the blade from his cover and stabs it out. And to his surprise, it hits something._

_“Where was this,” voice says into his face, winded and intense, “earlier?” Angry. Rugged. Cold._

_A strong grip forces the blade out his palms and Lance gasps as the metal embeds into the bark and the voice is over him, above him, pressing against his wrists with a quiet “don’t move” before releasing. He complies. Relents, and a sense of shame washes over him, pride begone. Because how can he not? Unfriendly or not, the stranger saved his ass. He may be gutted to nothing by now if he did not._

_“What -”_

_“Your eyes will sear from your skull if you don’t get this shit from your eyes.” And with his breath catching, he snaps his mouth shut._

_Hands on his face work fast, pouring a cool liquid into his eyes that’s soothing. The blood falls from his eyes with little resistance then, and he breathes relief into his chest. Just one breath. Because the next moment he’s met with strong and sharp features pinched into a scowl._

_The marks on his face hum._

_He swallows some nerves “Who are you?”_

_The expression deepens, dark eyes flashing gold in the shadows. “Who am I?” He reiterates The proximity is smaller, unfamiliar, gaze unwavering and intense. Heat washes over him through the chill as the stranger breathes, seeming to choose his next words very carefully._

_“Who are_ you _to have woken the musician's forest?”_

_._

_._

_._


End file.
